


The Wolf-Girl

by charivari



Category: Original Work
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, F/M, Hybrids, Melodrama, Secret Identity, Shapeshifting, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-11
Updated: 2016-01-11
Packaged: 2018-05-13 03:26:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5692786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charivari/pseuds/charivari
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Erik Hassler lives only with his wolf-dog Lili. Unbeknownst to him Lili is more than she appears.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Wolf-Girl

As was his daily custom, Erik Hassler made his way to _The Armsmen_ with his wolf-dog Lili. As always he left her tied outside. Dogs weren't allowed inside the pub, even one who belonged to a long-time patron such as Herr Hassler. Though the man himself loved the dog, the siren call of beer was always stronger. He gave Lili a pat on the head before heading inside. The dog sat on her haunches, head hung in a long-suffering gesture. It would be several hours before Hassler emerged, stumbling, slurring. He would take her lead and she would lead him home, to bed.

There was little for her to do in the meantime but rest. She lowered herself fully onto the ground. Her eyes flickered shut, nose still alert, inhaling the scents of the busy street, dirt, perfume, meat. The butcher's shop was nearby and its door was still open, torturing her with the smell of animal flesh. But her master was capable of the most intricate knots when sober. In his youth he had served in the navy. She had no hope of freeing herself.

Her ears picked up passing conversation, dialogue of workmen, ladies and their children. Always at the approach of children, her eyes swung open and she wagged her tail. Most children couldn't resist the sight of a dog. But their mothers were always more cautious, steering them away from the creature who resembled a wolf. They didn't want their children touching a beast who might attack them. Not that she would. She had never bitten anyone in her life. The children knew that well enough. Those without parental supervision patted her without fear.

But today, with mothers present, they kept clear and Lili was given no distraction from her predicament. Her tail stilled and she despondently re-closed her eyes. Still sleep evaded her in this place of noise and smells. Above her head she heard the flap of geese overhead. She looked up to watch their procession across the sky and felt a pang of envy. They were free and she was not. They could fly over many a town and forest, while she was stuck outside _The Armsmen_. She would be stuck outside _The Armsmen_ until Hassler's cancer eventually made him bed-ridden. Then she would stuck inside their little cottage until he breathed his last breath.

Then she would be free. Until then, she told herself, she had to be good, allow the old man to make the most out of his remaining days. She would wait faithfully outside the pub, faithfully lead him home. He had no one in the world to look after him beside her. His fellows at the pub thought him good for a laugh but none of them made sure he got home safely at night. It was up to her. There was no point being bitter. This was the life she had chosen when she had shown up at Hassler's door. A man of forty then who looked eighty, sad blood shot eyes and a threadbare dressing gown. Alone.

Even as he pointed the shotgun, thinking she was a wild animal ready to attack, she had seen the loneliness. Loneliness from being abandoned by his pregnant wife. Loneliness alcohol could only temporarily relieve. He had needed her. Seeing him for the first time she had been certain of it. She had frolicked in front of him to prove she wasn't dangerous. He had eventually lowered his gun, watched for another moment in curiosity then told her to "shoo".

She ignored the command, waiting outside his house all night. His surprise was audible when he caught sight of her the next day. She rolled on her back, trying to coax him closer. He watched her with one eye as he pulled on his work boots. It looked certain he was coming for her when he veered around her. She rolled upright, watching him watching her over his shoulder as he headed in the direction of town. She tried to follow, stopping when his command to "get!" became more aggressive.

She returned to his doorstep, curled herself up on the mat awaiting his return. Dozing off, she woke to the curse Hassler made on seeing her. She looked up at him with imploring eyes. He stared down, expression slowly softening. His hand inched down to the top of her head. A brief experimental pat before he moved inside. Encouraged she made sure she was waiting on the mat each time he left and each time he returned home.

His trepidation started to fade. He started to greet her with a smile, scratched behind her ears. He set down a bowl of water he made sure to refill. Come evening after his dinner he emerged to feed her scraps and smoke a final cigarette before retiring. Finally one night as he stubbed out the remains of his cigarette, he beckoned to her,

"Come on girl."

And she followed him inside. She slept at the foot of his bed for the first time. From the moment on she was his. His Lili, as he came to call her. A decent human name for his new companion. The name he might have called his own daughter. He would never know his lost child and the wolf-dog were in fact the same.

Erik Hassler had never known the truth about his wife. When they had met she had been in her human form. There had been no indication she was a member of a shape-shifting clan, who lived predominately in their wolf forms. She had been something of a renegade, choosing to marry a human instead of her own kind. Their marriage had been a happy one until she had fallen pregnant. She feared their daughter would be born as a wolf and reveal their secret to the husband she had kept in the dark.

Hassler was a God-fearing man when it came to things supernatural. Hildegard had feared he would not react kindly to learning the truth, that he would see his wife and child as demonic and cast them out for fear of his immortal soul. This fear surpassed all the love she had for her husband and one day while he was at work, she fled into the forest never to return.

The clan did not welcome back their sister with forgiveness. Her marriage to a human had caused much shame and they were not willing to have her return to their ranks, especially when she was carrying a half-breed. She was chased away, forced to survive on her own. Time spent as a human had dulled her hunting skills. By the time she fell into labor she was undernourished. The exhaustion of the birth brought on a deep sleep from which she never woke.

She had already perished by the time her sister arrived. Magdalene had followed the newborn's wails. She was an omega, too low-ranking to have had the courage to oppose her sister's exile. Magdalene had also been cursed with infertility and when she saw her sister's child, half-breed or not, she could not bring herself to leave her to die. She took her by the nape and brought her to the caves her clan called home during the colder months.

For the first time in her life she showed courage, begging to raise the traitor's child among them.

"The Moon Goddess had punished my sister by taking her life," she said, "Yet she has spared her child's. This is a sign we must embrace as our own."

Jarl, the alpha, silenced her with a growl.

"You are not the Prophet omega," he said coldly, "You do not speak for the Goddess."

"Please," Magdalene bowed her nose to the ground in supplication, "I have no child of my own and she is wolf enough."

Her niece had been born in wolf form. She didn't look too different from pure-blood pups. In fact she resembled her mother, and for Jarl, who had grown up with Hildegard, the similarity was cause for distaste. He had loved her mother once. Her half-breed daughter was a symbol of her rejection, not only of him but their very kind.

"She is still a half-breed," he growled, glaring at the pup, "Nothing can change that fact."

But in saying this, for all his hatred, he didn't have it in him to kill her. She looked too much like her mother for him to easily sink his fangs into her throat. So he added, as he turned his back on the sight of her,

"But do with her what you will. She won't last many moons."

That he hoped. He was of the mind that a half-breed could only be weak and frail. But Ingrid, as her aunt named her, proved to be far from death's door. She was as healthy as any pup, possessing the same curious temperament. But her ability to shift effortlessly into human form marked her apart from the others. Her heritage was no secret to rest of the pack. They passed their scorn onto their children. The pups subjected her to more open ridicule, excluding her from their games, teasing her without fear of reprisal.

Even her aunt found her difficult to love. Her adoption of a half-breed had thrust her into a spotlight of disapproval. It was a painful change from being mostly ignored. Her enthusiasm for being a parent waned as a result. She became neglectful and bitter, constantly reminding Ingrid of how grateful she should be.

"I could have left you for dead," she told her countless times, "But I didn't and look where it's gotten me!"

It didn't take long for Ingrid to prefer her own company. Her aunt had made no secret of the fact her father was human. She spent a lot of time contemplating how he was. Finally she found the courage to ask her aunt outright.

"What's my father's name?"

Magdalene shifted into human form to slap her,

"How should I know?" she cried, "I had nothing to do with him."

She eyed Ingrid as though she was willing her to disappear.

"He lives on the outskirts of the human town," she admitted finally, "Now leave me be will you."

Ingrid obliged. Now she knew where her father lived, she saw no point in seeing for herself. She set off in wolf form, stealing through the forest until a voice made her halt.

"Where are you going?"

Ingrid glared at the other wolf.

"None of your business," she snapped.

"So aggressive," Wolfram cooed, "Is that anyway to talk to your future leader?"

Ingrid growled. Wolfram was Jarl's eldest son and proud of it. He had been one of the most enthusiastic bullies in their youth. Even on reaching maturity he continued inflicting his company upon her.

"You're not leader yet Wolfram," she countered, "I don't think your father approves of us talking in the first place."

Wolfram moved closer,

"My father's not here," he said quietly.

Ingrid bared her teeth,

"Good for you. Now if you'll excuse me."

Wolfram swiftly blocked her exit,

"Not until you tell me where you're going," his eyes suddenly narrowed, "Are you meeting someone?"

"Yes as a matter of fact," Ingrid told him proudly, "My father."

Wolfram drew back with surprise.

"Your father?" he choked.

"Yes," Ingrid said, relishing his shock, "Do you have a problem with that?"

Wolfram stared at her wildly,

"Are you out of your mind?" he cried, "He's human. You can't…"

"Yes I can," Ingrid retorted, "Get out of my way."

She lunged past, only have him run up alongside her.

"What makes you think he's going to accept you anyway?" he demanded.

"I'm his daughter," Ingrid said determinedly, "Anyway it's not like any of you want me around."

"I wouldn't say that," Wolfram surprised her by saying, "Someone of us might…"

He trailed off and Ingrid rolled her eyes.

"Thanks but I'd rather take my chances elsewhere," she said.

She refused to look back when Wolfram came to a sudden stop.

"Well don't blame me if it doesn't work out!" he shouted after her.

It was these words that filled her with caution when she first saw Hassler. He wore a cross necklace around his neck. Ingrid had been warned of the danger of Christians. They believed her kind were demons and tried to kill them with silver bullets. This was why she chose to remain a wolf at first, for fear of her father's Christian beliefs. When she got to know him better she found he rarely went to the place of worship called Church. Despite this, in the end, she decided against revealing her true identity. Her father loved her as his dog. That was enough.

Several weeks into her new life Wolfram surprised her with a visit. Hassler had just left for work when he emerged from the trees.

"What are you doing here?" she demanded.

Wolfram didn't answer. His eyes rolled over her and he wrinkled his nose,

"A collar?" he said derisively, "Are you his pet or something?"

Ingrid looked to the ground. He made it sound humiliating.

"So what if I am?" she growled.

"Doesn't he know you're his daughter?" Wolfram pressed.

Ingrid looked up at him with a glare,

"No," she said, "I decided it was better not to tell him."

"And be his pet instead?" Wolfram said incredulously, "Are you mad?"

"It's a better life than I had before," Ingrid retorted, "With you lot all hating me…."

"I don't hate you Ingrid," Wolfram cut her off, "I... Like you."

Ingrid stared at him in shock.

"What?"

Wolfram glanced down at his paws,

"A lot in fact," he admitted, "I've been trying to tell you for ages. But you're always so hostile…"

"Because I didn't think anything had changed," Ingrid said, "I'm the lowly half-breed."

Wolfram looked up at her intently,

"You're more than that to me," he said, "I want you, for my mate."

Ingrid stared at him with uncertainty. She couldn't say Wolfram wasn't handsome. He was also a charismatic person when he wanted to be. Perhaps they were even compatible if she got to know him better. But she had to think realistically. Wolfram was held in high regard in the pack and she was not.

"Your father would never allow that," she said, "He hates me."

"He won't live forever," Wolfram assured her, "Once I'm alpha, I'll be free to choose my own mate."

"I still won't be a popular choice," Ingrid reminded him.

She jumped as Wolfram brushed his muzzle against hers,

"I don't care," he told her, "If anyone has a problem they'll answer to me."

His promise was soothing but Ingrid broke away from him,

"This – this is all too fast," she said.

"Come back to the camp," he said, "We can take things as slow as you like."

She shook her head,

"I can't leave my father," she told him, "He's dying Wolfram. He'd be alone without me."

Wolfram gave a heavy sigh,

"Well," he said after a moment, "I'll just have to visit you here."

Ingrid broke into a smile,

"I'd like that."

Wolfram was true to his word. Every so often, when he could steal away from the others, he came to the cottage. He would wait in the shadows until Hassler left for work. He would remain by her side until the time he returned, hastening back into the trees before he was seen. One time he convinced her to assume their human forms and stroll through town. In the back of the closet she found one of her mother's old dresses. Wolfram threw on Hassler's old shirt and pants. They walked through town arm in arm.

It was a fun game until they spotted Hassler coming in their direction. He was on his way home and Ingrid tensed as he approached. His brow creased when he saw her and once they had passed each other she heard him stop. She could feel his eyes on the back of her head, filled with consternation. Her aunt had often said how much she looked like her mother. Wearing her dress she must look to her father like a ghost. She quickly pulled Wolfram into an alley and demanded they change forms. They managed to beat Hassler back to the cottage. Ingrid saw a sadness in the corner of his eyes she never wanted to reignite again. She swore to remain a wolf for the rest of her father's days.

Wolfram was content for them to remain in one form. It was normal for their kind to stay mainly as wolves. Their human form was only used for moving through human villages. So wolves they remained. After a time Hassler was made aware of his cancer. As was his employer who told him to stay home. This made it harder for Wolfram to visit with Hassler around to spot him. There was no way of him being mistakenly for a gentle half-breed like Ingrid. Hassler was liable to shoot Wolfram's savage looking form on sight.

Wolfram certainly couldn't stroll the street in his wolf form either. So when Hassler started taking Ingrid with him to the pub, Wolfram took on human form to follow them. It wasn't exactly the same as before, the two stuck in different forms, unable to converse normally due to proximity of the townsfolk. However there was intimacy to be found in the silence, the comfort of sitting together and the feel of Wolfram's fingers in her fur.

On this day, as Ingrid sat once again waiting for Hassler, she caught the scent of Wolfram. She sprung to her feet, wagging her tail at his approach. He had found clothes to fit him better than Hassler by now. A cap sat jauntily on his head. He looked handsome as ever. As soon as he was within reach she jumped up on him. He grasped hold of her paws, keeping her upright against him like a dance partner.

"Hey beautiful," he grinned and she unabashedly licked his nose.

He pulled them onto the ground, Ingrid in his lap. She inflicted a few more licks to his face. He suffered them good-naturedly before his expression turned more serious.

"Father is insisting I marry," he sighed in her ear, "He wants me to marry Silke."

Ingrid looked at him anxiously. Silke was the daughter of the second in command. It was a logical match. She was also something of a beauty.

"Don't worry," Wolfram threaded his hands over her ears, "I'm not interested. It's just hard convincing him."

Ingrid laid her paw on his bicep in sympathy. It rallied him and he started to smile.

"Hey you!" a familiar voice barked.

Ingrid look to see Hassler staggering from _The Armsmen_. His face was red and furious,

"Get away from m' dog!" he shouted at Wolfram, "Bloody thief!"

Wolfram slipped away before Hassler could reach them. Ingrid watched him sprint down the street, disappearing into an alleyway. She turned her attention back to her father as he clumsily worked at the knot binding her to the pole.

"You should of bit him, girl," he slurred, "Damned gypsy."

He rambled mostly to himself as she led him home. He struggled with the key, finally managing to let them in. She nudged him in the direction of his bed where he collapsed on top of the covers. Ingrid waited until he was snoring then left him be. Hunger was gnawing at her stomach and with Hassler incapacitated, she was left to fend for herself. She made her way to the front door. Though Hassler had slammed it shut the knob was no trouble in her human form. As soon as she was outside she changed back, sniffing the air for nearby prey.

Her nose detected succulent rabbit and another familiar smell. She looked to see Wolfram emerging from the trees, rabbit in his jaws. He dropped it in front of her.

"I thought you might be hungry."

The sight and smell made her salivate. She nodded eagerly and accepted the offering. Wolfram refused any himself. He lay on his stomach, licking his paws. Ingrid joined him once she was finished, pressing her body contently against his.

"Why didn't you go back to the pack?" she asked.

She felt his shoulders rise and fall.

"They can do without me," he answered, "I'd rather take care of my mate."

Ingrid leaned over to lick his muzzle,

"Me too," she agreed.

She yelped as Wolfram tackled her onto her back. His teeth nipped the fur of her neck playfully. She squirm, digging at him with her hind legs, flipping him over and pouncing on top of him.

"Oh mighty warrior," she cooed, "Bested by a half-breed."

"I'm taking it easy on you," Wolfram quipped with a grin.

"Oh and why is that?" she glared down at him.

"Because I love you," he replied, craning to nudge her muzzle.

Ingrid returned the gesture, rubbing her nose against his.

"I love you too."

A sound caused them to freeze. A deep rumbling growl that told them they were not alone. Fearfully Ingrid turned to take in their intruder. It was Jarl. His expression was pure fury.

"Father," Wolfram gasped as Ingrid backed away to let him up, "How..?"

"You thought your absences weren't noticed?" Jarl growled, "Did you think you could keep… _this_ a secret?"

The disgust was clear in his voice. Wolfram's expression hardened,

"Ingrid is my mate."

Jarl gave a derisive snort,

"She isn't a real wolf, you foolish pup. You would contaminate our blood-line with her impurity?"

"I would take Ingrid over any female," Wolfram snarled, "Half human or not."

Jarl shook his head,

"Do you think our people with allow a half-breed Queen? Do you think I will allow it?" he said, "I'd rather kill you both."

Ingrid gasped. Jarl sounded completely serious. The pain was evident on Wolfram's face,

"You love me less than your pride?" he demanded.

"You are no son of mine," Jarl answered coldly, "Pride is all I have."

Wolfram let out a savage growl. He launched himself at his father. Ingrid called out in protest but it did little good. The two warriors clashed, biting and clawing and tumbling. There was nothing in their aggression to suggest they were father and son.

The two seemed evenly matched until Jarl started to tire. He was the elder of the two of course and Wolfram managed in pin him beneath him. It was only there that he showed reluctance, staring down at his father instead of going for his throat. His weakness was Jarl's gain. He threw Wolfram off with a powerful kick. In a split second the tables were turned. Wolfram was underneath his father. Ingrid screamed as she saw Jarl's open jaws begin to descend.

Her body fell into motion. Time seemed to slow until a bang brought everything forward. Jarl's body was slumped next to Wolfram's. There was blood and he wasn't moving.

Ingrid whipped around to see Hassler and his gun. Terror caught in her throat. He was reloading, his eyes trained beyond her, to the other wolf on the property. Ingrid turned desperately to Wolfram. Instead of fleeing to safety he was staring at his father in anguish.

She began barking wildly.

The noise seized his attention. He turned, their eyes briefly locking before he burst into motion.

Towards the forest.

He was almost there, so close she started to relax. Then a bang resounded and he fell, in a spray of blood. A wail tore from Ingrid's throat. She ran to him, threw herself on his body. Her paws became hands so she could rock him, willing him to stir. But he was motionless in her arms.

Dead. He was dead.

She clutched his body, sobbing.

A pained voice broke through her grief.

"Hilde?"

She turned to see her father collapse.

It took all her strength to let go of Wolfram, to heave her father to his feet, move him into bed. She couldn't bring herself to hate him. If she had told him the truth he wouldn't have shot Wolfram. His death was her fault. She couldn't blame her father. He was the only one she had left in the world.

She couldn't bear to leave Wolfram out in the open. She took a shovel and dug two graves in the garden. She buried father and son side by side, divided in life, united in death. She said the appropriate prayers and wept for the life she would never have.

When her father roused he refused a doctor. He clutched her hand as he slipped in and out of consciousness. He called her by her mother's name and she didn't correct him. The truth was too complicated for his weakened state. She wanted only to comfort him.

She remained at his side night and day. One morning she woke to find him not breathing.

She wept for him as she had Wolfram. She prayed to the Moon Goddess to deliver his soul to her mother's. She kissed his cold forehead and covered his body with a white sheet.

She slipped out of the house, pausing at Wolfram's grave. She let a tear slip then steeled herself.

The wolf-girl ventured out into the world alone.


End file.
